


The Wolf

by sixthblitz



Category: Original Work
Genre: Animal Death, Animal Metaphors, Gen, Original Fiction, Poetry, Prose Poem, Trauma, Wolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:21:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixthblitz/pseuds/sixthblitz
Summary: In the wild, there is violenceAnd there is deathAnd there is lifeAnd there is growth.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 6





	The Wolf

Gods are only actualised by their influence,

And so the wild is a godless land.

In the wild, there is violence

And there is death

And there is life

And there is growth.

Prayers are left unanswered

To lie with bones and grass and blood and bodies,

Relic trails of hurt souls

Twisted by the cruel demands of survival.

All creatures know their souls shall one day belong to the wild.

Life demands an end marked by bodily acquiescence.

The creatures’ contracts are signed in their own blood and marrow.

Life is insatiable in its hunger.

It will chew them up

And spit them out

And tear them apart

Should they not obey.

Sometimes death is life’s kinder twin.

Sometimes it is easier just to let go.

Sometimes even the predators feel like prey.

But not the wolf.

The wolf has been chewed up

And spat out

And torn apart

And twisted and ripped to shreds

And yet it still lives on.

It has fought for every breath it draws

And every step it takes.

It has looked into death’s open maw

And refused to glance away.

It has earned every scar

Decorating its body of years.

But the creatures still do not understand.

The wolf is only a dog

Who chose a different name.

  
The wolf is only a mammal

Who refused to be hunted.

The wolf is only a mortal soul

Who never stopped fighting.

Life has taken much from the wolf,

But still its canine loyalty

Remains unbroken.

The wolf knows what it feels like

To be chewed up

And spat out

And torn apart.

The wolf knows what it feels like

To be a mortal soul in the wild

It is not fair

That life should hold their souls

Between its claws

Free to orchestrate their suffering.

But the wolf also knows

That one day they will understand.

One day

The mortal souls will rise

From the ashes of life's cruel game

To stare straight into its hungry eyes

And refuse to look away.

One day

There will be others like the wolf.

And so its howl is raw with love

For those who are alone

For those hoping for a sign

That it is not just them

Against life's ceaseless hunger

Against the violent command to obey 

Against its predetermined cruelty.

And so it walks the night with pride

That the odds shall one day be defied

And when the wolf bays its broken sound

Life knows to be afraid.

**Author's Note:**

> A heavily metaphorical examination of those who refuse to stop fighting.


End file.
